


Swelter

by TheSmutFaries



Series: Quickies [4]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 15:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14216424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmutFaries/pseuds/TheSmutFaries
Summary: Things are heating up for ichabbie!





	Swelter

Abbie slams the car door and takes a deep breath. Just getting out of that claustrophobic cab makes her feel better. 

“Lieutenant, I wasn’t finished,” Ichabod says, finger raised, eyebrow raised - Abbie thinks her blood pressure is fucking _raised_.

“No, I think you were,” she says. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“Because you’re not listening,” he says. “And you won’t listen to reason.”

Abbie ignores him and stares at the hotel before them. It looked like it had maybe ten rooms max and hadn’t been updated since the eighties. But it has to have a shower and working air conditioners, the most important things.

And beds.

When Abbie lifts herself out of contemplation she realizes Ichabod’s still speaking and wants to scream. 

“I think we’re going to stay here for the night,” she interrupts him. 

Ichabod frowns. “You wish to stop already? We are a mere four hours from home.”

“And if we stay in the car for another four hours I might just kill you - and this time it would stick,” she promises him. 

Ichabod gapes at her before drawing himself up to full height. 

“Quite,” he mutters. 

“And aren’t you hot?” Abbie snaps, gesturing to his heavy jacket. “You’ve got to be dying.”

Ichabod’s expression shifts briefly, just a glimpse of discomfort, before it’s swallowed by English propriety. 

“I have dealt with heat greater than this, Lieutenant,” he says.

“Of course you have,” Abbie says, taking her shirt and peeling it away from her body. “Look, we need some time apart. We’ve been bickering for the past two days and it almost cost us the mission.”

As they enter the lobby, a couple is making their exit, one handing the other a key while they kept one for themselves. Abbie sighs with relief as cool air hits her sweat-dampened skin. It was almost a better feeling than sex.

Almost.

They approach the counter. Crane stands stoically at Abbie's side as she nearly collapses onto the plastic laminate desktop. 

“Can we get two rooms with one bed, please?” Abbie asks weakly.

The clerk purses her lips as she looks over a sheet of paper. 

“Only got one room left,” the older woman states.

Abbie narrows her eyes. 

“I called twenty minutes ago and you had five rooms available.”

The woman arches her brow. “I also said you might want to reserve them if you wanted to make sure you had a room.”

Abbie grumbles to herself. She only has herself to blame for that one. She could have given Crane her credit card and had him give the information. 

“Is it a double occupancy?” Abbie asks.

The clerk shrugs indifferently. 

“Up to two people can be in it,” she responds. “Take it or leave it.”

“Lieutenant, may I remind you -”

Abbie snaps her head in his direction. 

“No, you may not remind me.” She looks at the clerk and slaps her credit card and ID down on the counter. “We'll take it.”

~*~

Abbie stands in the doorway of the room, letting every ounce of cool air escape. The longer she looks at the room, the more furious she feels. 

“Double occupancy, my _ass,_ ” Abbie grouses.

“Lieutenant,” Crane says cautiously. “I did try to remind you that double occupancy generally implies there is only one be-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” Abbie snaps.

She doesn’t want to hear his “I told you so” at that moment. Or rather his “I tried to tell you.” Abbie's neck twinges slightly so she rotates her shoulders to soothe it.

It’s just fucking perfect that, when space is at its most necessary, they are stuck in one small room with a solitary queen bed. Perfect. Just _so fucking perfect._

Not to mention it looks like the sort of place someone went when they wanted to be a serial killer’s next victim. Abbie slowly looks at Crane then at the bed and has a vision of him lying on the bed limp, with a pillow duct-taped around his face. She’s in handcuffs screaming “I bet you wish you had shut up now!” at his corpse.

In the space of half a second, her mind went through a trial that ended with her being locked away - cackling - at Tarrytown.

Abbie shakes her head to chase away that intrusive thought. She squeezes her fists at her sides then sighs slowly. Part of her is determined to get through this without them murdering each other. Although, to be fair, she knows if anyone were to murder anyone, it would be her murdering Crane. And the asshole probably wouldn't put up a fight. He'd probably welcome it actually.

For that reason alone, Abbie is determined to just get her damn shower and get in the damn bed and get some fucking sleep.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she announces to the room, not waiting to see if Ichabod registers her words or not. Just closing the bathroom door lets her breathe a little easier. She can’t remember being this … _rage-filled_ in forever. It normally takes quite a bit to work her nerves but ever since they picked up the knife that had some sort of special something or other for use in a specific spell, every _single_ thing Crane did set her teeth on edge.

Abbie peels away her sweaty, stinky clothes as she waits for the shower to reach the perfect temp of subzero. After a moment, Abbie steps into the shower and lets the cool water run down her body. It feels so good to finally be rid of the past two days’ worth of filth and grime. 

Though she knows she might regret it later, she dunks her head into the icy stream. Abbie carefully works her fingers through her hair until she can feel the cold water on her scalp and nearly collapses against the wall with relief.

She indulges herself for what seems like an hour. It’s almost with regret that Abbie turns off the water and steps out of the shower onto the dated green and white tile floor. After toweling herself off, she reaches for her bed clothes, but pats only a bare bathroom counter.

“What the fuck,” she blurts, looking down at the counter. She scours the counter and the floor, just in case they had dropped in her hurry to disrobe. “Motherfucker.”

Abbie nearly sobs. All she has at her disposal is her towel and the nasty clothes she wants to put in a paper bag and burn. After a moment of recollecting her steps, she realizes she hadn’t grabbed her bedclothes before entering the bathroom. With a heavy sigh she calls, “Crane.”

Silence.

“Crane!” she grouses, quickly losing patience. Of all the moments for him to adopt a code of fucking silence... “ _Ichabod Crane, answer me!_ ”

Still silence prevails on the other side of the door. Abbie silently fumes as she wraps the towel around her body. She yanks the door open and peers out into the empty room. Any tirade she may have had dies in her throat when she discovers her fellow witness was missing.

Abbie's eyes fell to her sleepwear, tidily rolled up on the corner of the bed, next to her suitcase. She double checked that Crane was nowhere in sight then scampered to the bed. Not knowing how little or how much time she had, Abbie unwound the towel from her body.

However, as her luck this day would have it, the door to the room opened. She froze in horror as the towel hit the floor and Crane’s voice chimed, “Lieutenant I have procuuuurr -” his voice dropped off in a slurred tone.

Abbie remained frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Crane stared, wide eyed, holding a coffee cup and small plastic bag laden with a donut in each hand. They remain staring at each other in abject silence until she screeches, grabbing her clothes, and runs back to the bathroom. “Crane!” she hollered through the door.

Ichabod winces, his eyes firmly shut now, but that didn’t matter. What he’d seen was seared on the backs of his eyelids for all time. 

How long had it been since he’d seen the female form, wet and dripping from a bath? And it wasn’t just any woman, it was the Lieutenant - Abbie. Abbie’s curves burned into his brain and soul. The small turn she made when he announced his welcome, the prodigious roundness of her backside in sharp relief, atop strong thighs tapering into surprisingly long legs. 

Her torso was well formed, with delicate collar bones above full, tantalizing breasts. It gave way to a tiny waist and a flat stomach. From there lovely dark curls at her apex that made his fingers twitch from the desire to touch them - stroke them, curl them around his fingers, and bury his face in them.

Ichabod gasps for breath then shook his head to clear it. The bathroom door swing open and Abbie storms out, this time clad in a little top and even smaller shorts.

“You're letting the cold air out,” she snapped, which startled Ichabod into movement.

He stepped into the room and closed the door. Abbie busied herself at the little sink and counter, taming her hair into a silk scarf. Ichabod sucked in a breath and strode over to place one coffee and donut on the counter.

Abbie glared at him in her reflection and grumbled under her breath.

“I thought you would enjoy a relaxing cappuccino and your favorite Boston Creme filled and chocolate glazed donut,” he said carefully. His eyes drifted to Abbie's breasts, the thin cotton stretched to its limits. Her hard nipples were terribly and beautifully vying for attention.

He didn't realize he was staring until Abbie dropped her arms and sighed loudly. “I get it, I have tits,” Abbie snapped. “You can stop staring at any time.” She turned toward him. “And why the hell would I want coffee and pure sugar when I'm getting ready to go to sleep?”

Abbie felt a small pang of regret when Ichabod visibly deflated. Instead of giving an apology, she turned back to her nightly routine and after about thirty seconds she picked up the coffee and took a sip. Good Lord it was like the tears of Jesus were dripping on her tongue.

She saw Ichabod give a small smile as he turned to go fetch what he needed for his shower. He ambled to the small table and sat down to drink his own coffee, taking great care to set his cup down noiselessly and doing the same when he removed his donut.

Even more guilt settled in as she recognized the behavior of someone who was accustomed to maintaining strict silence when an authority figure was angry. Then the fury started bubbling back up. 

_Why is he doing that? He knows I won't hurt him!_

Thankfully the small part of her that was wasn't in the mood to rampage like Godzilla through Tokyo countered, “No he doesn't. He probably _assumes_ but he doesn't _know_.”

Jesus! Why was she so fucking angry?

Abbie scarfed down her donut with gusto and finished off her coffee before brushing her teeth. After rinsing she became ridiculously aware of Crane breathing and snapped her head in his direction. 

_He was staring at her again!_ His eyes roamed up and down her body slowly, drinking her in with a look in his eyes that both enraged her and, quite frankly, turned her on. And to top it off, when he shifted in his seat, there was another very obvious development in his pants.

Everything seemed to suddenly become hypersensitive. Her tank top tickled and aroused every inch of skin it covered, her bones itched deep inside, and she was pretty sure that heavy feeling in the pit of her belly wasn't her having to pee.

“Are you going to get your shower,” Abbie spat. “Or are you planning to sleep next to me in that bed, smelling like a dog that rolled in sewage?”

Ichabod shook his head to clear it. He hadn't thought about the implication of having only one bed meant he would be sleeping next to the Lieutenant, _in the same bed_.

He nodded lightly as he finished his donut then stood. “I was just about to gather my toi -”

“I don't need a play by play, Crane,” Abbie huffed.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” he said quietly, then gathered his things and retreated to the bathroom. 

Abbie sighed and made her way to the bed, hell-bent on enjoying the precious few minutes she was going to have to herself while Crane showered. She felt a wave of irritation when Crane started singing a jaunty shanty as soon as the water started flowing. She wasn't entirely sure what this one was about, just that it involved a fair maiden with soft, golden thighs.

Tossing left then right, Abbie tried to make herself comfortable. Between being angry and aroused, that didn't seem like something she would accomplish soon. Which only served to anger her more.

She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her back. Crane was infamous for his long showers, so she reasoned she could at least do something about the aroused part. Even if it annoyed her.

Abbie adjusted her pillows and clicked off all the lights, save the one in the mirror nook. She settled against the pillows and headboard and slid her hand into her shorts. Closing her eyes, she slowly slipped her fingers into her folds to circle around her clit.

A soft moan escaped her throat as she parted her legs to give herself better access. Immediately her mind when to her favorite fantasy - Crane’s face between her legs. 

She could easily imagine him moaning her name as he rubbed his face against her core. Abbie's eyes popped open as she realized she hadn't _imagined_ Crane’s voice moaning her name so much as literally heard him through the bathroom wall, mingling with the sound of rushing water.

Her hand paused in its pursuit of pleasure as she listened to the soft moans and sighs of Crane doing God only knows what while murmuring her name. Actually, she was pretty sure he was becoming intimately acquainted with his palm.

 _Oh Abbie_ …

Abbie felt her heart stammer in her chest as her hand started to rub her clit once again. Her head fell back as she listened to him. She wondered what he was thinking about. 

Was he thinking about her naked? Was he imagining her writhing underneath him as he pounded into her?

“Shit,” Abbie moaned, now imagining it herself. Those hungry eyes devouring her as she keened. It was a mere few seconds before Abbie was riding the wave of orgasm, panting, her face flushed as Crane gave a muffled groan.

She stared at the ceiling, wondering the last time she had been so turned on she came that fast. The acoustic accompaniment courtesy of Crane probably helped. 

More than helped.

Fuck, Abbie thought as she turned over, facing away from the bathroom. That had just happened. What the hell? She wanted to scream How Dare You when he came from the bathroom but she was just as fucking guilty.

This fact seemed to make the anger well up again. Angry that he was probably going to be using the sight of her wet and naked as wank material for the rest of his damn life. And she hadn't so much as seen him with his shirt off! How dare he!

She kicked her feet, feeling childish and stupid and that just made her angrier. Abbie decided she was going to give Crane a piece of her mind, but somewhere between the cool air and the lull of the shower, she falls asleep.

~*~

Some time in the middle of the night Abbie’s aware that she’s burning up, but it’s not enough to fully wake her. She kicks off the covers and immediately feels relief, so she falls back into a deep sleep, rolling over until she runs into a comfortable mass.

An indeterminable time later Abbie becomes aware of not only heat, but the irritating slick of night sweat. She blinks in the complete darkness, trying to figure out what woke her, when she hears rhythmic knocking coming from the other side of the thin wall. A low, masculine groan can be heard, and in spite of herself the sound goes right to her clit. 

She squirms, realizing the wall of heat against her is Crane, slumbering deeply with his arm thrown across her waist. Some time in the night they must have migrated to the middle of the already small bed - any bed is small when Ichabod Crane’s lanky ass is draped across it. His arm is heavy, and when Abbie attempts to lift it to move from beneath it he turned and tucked her against his front, her hip coming in contact with his impressive hard on.

 _Oh shit_ , Abbie thought, her thighs rubbing together as her nose is filled with the scent unique to Crane. He smelled like old books and the old spice soap she bought him, and coupled with the ecstatic sounds coming from the next room, Abbie seriously contemplated sliding her hand into her panties again. 

_NO_ , she thought, her nipples tightening at the low _you like that? You want this dick?_ the man in the next room groaned.

Fuck yes, she did, Abbie thought, biting her bottom lip as she moved her hips, imagining Ichabod taking her with long, sure strokes, timed to the knocking against the wall. What she didn’t anticipate was the low groan right at her ear - with what she thought were just _teeny, tiny_ movements, she’d been enthusiastically rubbing against Ichabod’s dick.

Completely inadvertently. 

The air is boiling, and Abbie feels like she’s being suffocated for reasons that have nothing to do with air. Ichabod’s breathing hitches but he doesn’t seem to be awake. His hands move - because when do they not? - and Abbie stopped breathing when his hand comes up to cup the underside of her breast.

The asshole isn’t even touching her nipple but Abbie has to fight not to arch into his touch. She released a shaky breath, willing Ichabod to wake or move or _do something_.

Careful what you wish for, isn’t that what everyone always says?

Ichabod moaned again, sinfully deep and full of promise as he pressed his face against Abbie’s neck, nosing at the skin just behind her ear. There was only so much Abbie could take, and that was one of her _spots_ , damn it. She bit back her moan but her body betrayed her anyway - she bared her neck and sure enough Ichabod chased it, moving over her.

Abbie swore her legs just fell open.

She’d swear in court.

If she thought he felt big and thick against her hip, Abbie wasn’t prepared to feel Ichabod’s cock nestled against the damp patch of cotton covering her core. Ichabod’s legs widened and he breathed _Abbie_ before he ground himself against her.

“Oh god,” Abbie cried out, her legs tightening around his waist as he rutted against her. It felt so good she couldn’t help but moan again as she clutched Ichabod’s shoulders.

“Lieutenant? Oh good god,” Ichabod gasped, his hips still moving as he kissed her neck before licking away a bit of sweat. He adjusted himself so that he could hold both her breasts in his hands, thumbing the turgid peaks through the thin cotton of her tank top.

“Yes,” Abbie cried out, already close to completion. She cried out when he grabbed her ass with one hand and hauled her against him tightly, and she came just like that, soaking through her underwear and the front of Ichabod’s boxers.

“Magnificent,” he groaned, peppering kisses across her collarbone. “Tell me, Lieutenant, do you wish to come again?”

Somehow in the raging heat and darkness Ichabod Crane found his backbone, and Abbie could feel her core throb hard. “Yes,” she said, and when her voice shook he had the nerve to chuckle darkly. “But - “

Ichabod immediately stilled. “Do you wish me to stop?” he asked.

Abbie shook her head, though she was unsure if he could even see it.

“Then what gives you pause?” he asked.

“I’m - I’m just not used to seeing you like this,” she blurt out. “You remind me of - nevermind.”

Ichabod began nosing against the column of her throat again. “I remind you of whom, Lieutenant? And should I be jealous?”

“You remind me of when you were _Captain_ ,” Abbie said quietly, feeling him still against her. “Confident… self assured… a little…” she bit her bottom lip and groaned as she arched against him. “Cocky.”

Crane paused as his lips ghosted along the scoop of her shirt neckline, brow arching deviously. “Trust me Grace Abigail Mills… I am very much still Captain Crane.”

“Prove it,” Abbie challenged.

He held her gaze with that self assured glimmer he got when he knew he was the smartest son of a bitch in the room. Abbie shifted and fidgeted as her shirt crept upward, propelled by ichabod gathering the fabric in one hand. Crane paused briefly to lick his lips before quickly whipping the front end of her tank top over her breasts and head, hooking it behind her neck.

Instead of delving directly into her breasts, he kissed a path down her abdomen and to her navel. His tongue teased the edge of the indention before delicately whirling his tongue in the small gap. Abbie squirmed and bit her lip as he worked her tank top down her arms, behind her back, until her elbows were trapped against her sides.

Ichabod licked and nibbled his way up both of her sides. When he finally paid homage to her breasts, he started in the hypersensitive undersides. He nuzzled his face into the juncture between the swells and her chest and moaned loudly. His lips followed the curve of either breast until he reached the span of skin between them.

“Oh shit,” Abbie whispered with desperation, her knees squeezing his side.

With a smirk, Ichabod licked and nibbled at the valley. Abbie squirmed and whimpered his name. Ichabod simple hummed indulgently and let one hand drift down her body. His hand detoured around her hip and cupped her ass. He squeezed gently and hauled her up against him so he could feel how hard he was against her core.

“Ichabod,” Abbie croaked. “Please… it's hot in here. Stop teasing.”

“Well you asked for Captain Crane,” he purred, which made her shiver. “And the Captain is a very thorough and patient man.”

The creaking and moaning from the other room intensified, the headboard slamming hard against the wall. The woman could be heard giving loud, throaty moans as her partner growled, “That's it baby, take this dick.”

Ichabod scoffed lightly. “Arousing yes,” he stated. “But one should never leave their lover wanting for more. They should always make certain their partner is completely satisfied…”

“We got all night for you to do that, baby,” Abbie panted as his fingers traced a path along her panties-covered slit. “And then, there's always once we get home.”

Ichabod hummed and nodded, “Indeed.”

Abbie's heart leapt into her throat as Ichabod scrambled onto his knees then, with a desperation she had only ever seen in battles with demons, he pulled both her tank top and her panties down the length of her body and tossed them over his shoulder. His eyes roamed over her slowly, drinking her in as he made quick work of his boxer briefs.

“Jesus,” Abbie breathed as he tossed his underwear aside, lost with her own sleepwear. She drank him in like he had already done done to her. Her eyes zeroed in on the prize at the end of the trail of hair that dusted down his chest and belly. Abbie swallowed hard.

Like the rest of him, his dick was long and big. Her legs just fell open on sight, ready to welcome him. She reasoned that she was a grown ass woman, she wasn't about to let herself get intimidated by a well-proportioned dick. She'd take it or die trying. If she just so happened to end up somewhere between the two, she had good insurance.

She squeaked softly when Ichabod grasped her knees and pulled her close. His eyes met hers and held them. “Are you absolutely certain this is what you want, Abbie?” he asked.

Abbie felt her heart stammer again at the low, growl in his voice. Like he was making sure she wanted to partake in some dangerous act that could never be reversed. She knew that if she let this happen, if they really did this, there was no taking it back. He would be hers. 

She would be accepting that Crane would be her lover. She'd be accepting everything about him, the good and the bad, from his prissy little hair flips to his unwavering - sometimes obsessive - devotion to her. There would be no “let's pretend this didn't happen.”

“I've never been more certain of anything,” Abbie finally replied.

At that, his smile turned wicked and he reached between her legs. Abbie's eyes fluttered closed as she felt his fingers glide between her folds. Between what had been going on when she woke up and everything since, his fingers slid through with ease. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

She felt him follow his fingers with the swollen tip of his cock, he hummed appreciatively. “Perfection,” he purred. “Lieutenant… Abbie. Open your eyes, love.”

Abbie opened her eyes then let her eyes drifted down to where Ichabod had positioned himself. “Do it,” she breathed. Her eyes widened and her breath stuck in her throat as he first pushed in.

Her fingers curled into the blankets beneath her and she softly mouthed, “Oh my God” as her head fell back. He withdrew slowly then pushed back in again, going deeper.

“Good Lord you're so wet,” Ichabod groaned and it went straight to her clit. He made a surprised sound when he next inward thrust sent her juices flooding onto his cock.

Abbie's eyes rolled back in her head as his thrusts almost immediately became faster, sliding deeper with ease. His hands grasped her hips and lifted her ass away from the bed. “Oh shit!” Abbie shrieked as he slammed inside of her to the hilt. She panted loudly, her hips grinding against him.

“Oh yes,” Ichabod growled.

Abbie was already keening before he got three full strokes in, clawing her nails down his chest as he hovered over her, gripping the headboard as he rocked against her. The bed was now saturated beneath them. Ichabod bit his lip, grunting deeply as he pounded into her. 

The curls at the base of his cock rubbed against her clit with delicious friction, making her try to widened her legs even further. Her thighs were already burning from exertion to accommodate Ichabod's hips.

“Fuck!” Abbie bellowed. “Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck… it's too much… you're too big…”

Ichabod's movements slowed then stopped, making Abbie cry out and sob because she could no longer feel the friction of his dick inside of her. “Shall I stop?” Ichabod asked, an honest query.

“No!” Abbie proclaimed. “Don't you dare st--ahh… ah… oh… oh God yes… yes!”

Ichabod rested his forehead against hers and rutted into her. Their breaths and sighs and groans mingled together until Abbie grinned saucily. “I want to ride your dick, baby,” Abbie said, her voice low and sultry.

Much to her surprise, almost instantly, Ichabod wrapped his arms around her and rolled until she was atop him. “By all means, Lieutenant…” he said wickedly.

Abbie bit her lip as she stared down at Ichabod, suddenly feeling quite shy. Did her big mouth get her in trouble again?

“Lieutenant?” Ichabod asked quietly. “ _Abbie_ ,” he murmured, and flexed inside of her.

Abbie gasped and fell forward, catching herself with her hands on his broad chest. If she had thought Ichabod felt big before, now he felt immense. She rose up just a little and fell back down, almost shouting at the sensation. “Fuck,” she whimpered, moving her hips. Ichabod’s hands feel like steel bands on her hips, and she could feel his thighs flex beneath her legs.

“Abbie,” he said, his voice strangled. “Please move faster.”

Abbie moaned as she moved up and down his dick, luxuriating in the feeling of him spreading her open slowly. She rested her hand on her belly as she whispered an awed, “Oh my God.”

Maybe it was just her imagination, wishful thinking, or maybe it wasn't, but Abbie would swear in court that she could feel every hard ridge of his dick rubbing her from the inside. It may be hot as hell in their room but she had chills just thinking about it.

“Abbie,” Ichabod growled, his patience with her slow movements wearing thin. “Lieutenant. I beg of you, move faster.”

A small giggle erupted from Abbie's lips when she looked down at his strained expression. It was probably wrong of her to laugh at the poor man's state. In fact, she soon learned that one didn't tease a man that hadn't nutted in 230 some odd years.

But that realization came after she had decided she was, in fact, going to continue tormenting the man lying beneath her. She pressed her hands to his chest and bit her bottom lip as she continued her slow torture. 

“Grace Abigail Mills,” Crane moaned. “I am giving fair warning… cease this torture and move faster.” He gasped as she bore down on him and gently swirled her hips.

“Mmm… so good,” Abbie sighed. She had thought his warning was because he was close to the edge, ready to come. Boy was she wrong.

“ _Abbie_ ,” Crane growled, grabbing her hips roughly.

Abbie gulped hard as fire entered his eyes and she realized she had made a huge mistake. A mistake that was huge. But, he had tried telling her three times. She, like normal, had refused to listen because oh she knew better than anyone.

Except this had been the one time out of ten, she should have listened. She should have known better. Although, to be honest, she would find it hard to find fault in the consequences.

Ichabod thrust up into her hard. Abbie's eyes grew wide and her breath caught in her throat as he hit her spot. He bit his lip as he pumped his cock into her fast and hard, grunting softly each time he bottomed her out with a loud wet sound.

Her head fell back as she gave a loud, exuberant scream of “ _Holy fuck_!”

She wasn't sure if he was thrusting up, bouncing her on his dick, or both but it was excruciating. In a good way. For one, she learned the very valuable lesson that Ichabod Crane was not a passive bottom. Second, she learned that a demon possessed Emily Rose had nothing on Abigail Mills in the throes of orgasm.

Any consideration of the little kitten moans from the neighboring room were violently shoved out of Abbie's head. She wasn't entirely sure what she was shouting as wave after wave crashed through her body or it even was actual words. She could have been speaking in tongues or spitting out gibberish for all she knew.

In fact, if one were to ask the neighbors, they would say at first they thought it was kinda sexy they had gotten Abbie and Ichabod horny. But when it started sounding like the exorcist was going down next door, they were the ones feeling pent up and he knew he'd never be able to make the pretty call girl in his bed make those kind of noises. However, they did both want to shake the hands of their neighbors.

Abbie was so caught up in ecstasy that she didn't even realize Ichabod had pinned her down on the mattress until she felt heat puddling inside of her. He was rutting hard into her, his dick swelling and pulsing inside of her as he filled with his seed.

She grabbed his ass, digging her fingernails in when she thought he was going to pull out. “Not yet,” she gasped, tilting her hips just enough to keep him pressed into her snuggly. 

Her eyes drifted down to where they were joined. “Oh shit,” she whimpered. She swallowed hard as she watched the evidence of their deeds leak out of her with each heavy breath. 

Ichabod chuckled gently and kissed her temple, then her brows and nose. “Do you wish for me to stay inside of you until I grow soft, my dear?” he asked softly.

Abbie hummed and nodded.

“Then we shall stay here for an eternity,” he whispered, brushing kisses on her eyelids and cheekbones. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her lips slowly, lingeringly, drinking in the delights of her mouth as her walls throbbed around his cock.

Ichabod could not recall a time in which he felt so peacefully complete. He only hoped he had not hurt his beloved in his desperation to have her. Judging by her soft moans as he kissed her and the gentle thrusts of his hips, he had not only given her immense pleasure, but she was receptive of more that very moment.

And damn it all if he wasn't still somewhat hard and willing to give her more pleasure.

He growled softly against her lips and began to thrust into her earnestly. Her dark eyes widened in surprise and she gasped softly with each inward stroke. “Ichabod,” she moaned, twining her fingers behind his neck.

Each time he pushed into her velvety embrace, he felt wet heat spill down his thighs, spurring on his own arousal. “Abbie,” he breathed.

His lover cried out as he reared back onto his knees and hauled her up onto his lap. With a possessiveness he didn't know he was capable of, he pressed her against the headboard and thrust deeper and harder. “Mine,” he growled.

Abbie nodded, her eyes rolling back and her mouth hanging open. 

“Mine,” he repeated, the headboard clapping hard against the wall with each press of his hips between Abbie's thighs.

The only sounds she seemed capable of were incoherent nnnnggghhhh’s and hums. She scrambled against him, as though trying to get closer, despite their bodies being pressed as tightly together as two bodies could be. Both of her fists gripped his hair and yanked back hard as her walls clamped down around his dick.

Heat flooded down his thighs, soiling sheets and pillows alike that he hadn't bothered to move out of the way. With a mighty roar, Crane thrust hard into her body three more times and finally completely spent himself inside of his beloved Lieutenant.

They both fell against the mattress in a tangle of arms and legs, panting heavily.

Abbie was the first to somewhat recapture her breath. “Jesus,” she groaned, her hand on her belly. There was an indulgent ache there that felt both full and empty now that Ichabod lay beside her, dazed and panting. She swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath. “Jesus…”

Ichabod laughed softly and looked her way. Abbie looked him up and down, sighed heavily, and repeated once more, “Jesus…”

“I sincerely hope I have left you with more of your vocabulary,” Ichabod joked.

“Oh my god,” Abbie panted, embarrassed at the fine tremble in her legs. “I haven’t come that hard… ever,” she realized.

“Abigail, my darling, understand I plan to do better each time,” Ichabod said, kissing any bit of skin he could reach.

“Are you trying to kill me, Captain?” she asked as she turned on her side to face him. 

Ichabod’s smile was enigmatic as he leaned in to give her a soft, lingering kiss. “I only mean to ruin you for anyone else, as you have ruined me,” he murmured.

“Well, damn,” Abbie said, her eyes fluttering open. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve done that.” She wiped the sweat from her neck and groaned. “We’re soaked and I think I’m laying in the wet spot.”

Ichabod chuckled as he rolled off the bed gracefully, extending a hand to Abbie. “My dearest lieutenant, there is no _one spot_ , as it were,” he said, the fire reigniting in his eyes as he pulled Abbie to him.

She turned to look at the bed and her eyes widened. “Oh my god, we made a mess.”

“We?” Ichabod asked against her ear. He grinned when he felt her shiver. “That is all you, my dear.” His hand fluttered down the toned plane if her abdomen to just brush the curls at her apex. “Do you wish to know how many times you soaked my thighs?”

Abbie squirmed away, hiding her face. “You hush,” she said goodnaturedly. She fanned her face and blew wayward strands of her hair from her forehead. “God, it’s hot in here,” she said, and walked over to the cooling unit on the other side of the room. “It’s not even blowing anything out,” Abbie said, holding her hands over the vents. “No wonder we woke up boiling.” She felt Ichabod’s eyes on her and she smiled to herself. “Why are you staring?”

Ichabod’s eyebrow rose. “You wouldn’t ask such a thing if you had my view,” he said appreciatively, watching his petite goddess smack her own backside playfully. Other parts of him were already getting ideas. He glanced back at the bed and blanched. He wouldn’t relish climbing back into the messy sheets and made a decision. 

“I will strip the bed whilst you shower, then I shall take my turn, and when I’m done I’ll retrieve new bedding from the proprietor at the front desk,” Ichabod volunteered, gathering the edge of a soiled sheet in his hand.

Abbie hummed. “You could do that,” she said, turning from the useless unit to smile at Ichabod playfully. “Or we could both use the shower at the same time. You know, conservation of water,” she said seriously. 

Ichabod dropped the sheet in favor of his lieutenant’s hand, and let her lead him to the small, cramped bathroom. It took a bit of logistical maneuvering, but both were soon tucked into the shower stall enjoying the cool water as it hit their heated flesh. 

Abbie had thought to grab their soaps from the counter, and with a sly smile she turned and poured some of Ichabod’s shower gel into her palm. “We’re just going to get clean,” she warned, rubbing her hands together and looking entirely too gleeful to call no shenanigans. 

“As the lady wishes,” Ichabod said, and had to breathe out of his mouth when Abbie’s small hands landed on his abdomen, rubbing innocent circles on his skin. The traitorous part of him revealed how much he enjoyed her hands on him as Abbie pretended not to notice him hardening against her.

“Abbie…” he groaned when she grabbed his now fully tumescent cock in both her hands and pumped it a few times. “What… How am I to resist this?” he asked, the force of his will the only thing keeping him from moving his hips.

“I’m just trying to get you clean,” she said innocently, licking her lips as she swirled her thumb over the slit of the head of his dick, which was an impressive reddish purple - as if he hadn’t just come buckets inside of her a few minutes ago. Abbie chuckled and took pity on him; she released his cock after just another tug before going back for more soap.

Ichabod swallowed again as he watched Abbie bend, causing her glorious backside to flex. His mouth filled with saliva and his fingers twitched. The cool water did nothing to douse the fire in his loins or in his flesh. Now that the dam had been opened, how could he ever hope to quell his desire again?

Abbie returned with more soap and stopped short at the look in his eye. “What?” she asked, slightly self consciously.

“I do believe it’s your turn, Lieutenant,” he rumbled, stepping into the stream of cool water to rinse off. He lifted Abbie off her feet and placed her where he once stood, grinning at her wide, surprised eyes. “I wouldn’t want you to do all the work.” 

“Oh,” Abbie breathed as she watched Ichabod grab her soap from where it stood beside his, and squeeze some into his hand and rub it together. “What are you about to do?”

Ichabod tilts his head. “I’m just going to get you clean, as you did me,” he said. After a second thought he reached behind him and turned down the water to almost a trickle before he knelt down before her. 

“You’re not going to behave,” Abbie laughed when she saw him lick his lips. The movement made her core throb as she tried not to rub her thighs together.

“I am,” he protested, and immediately went about sudsing her skin. Ichabod watched, fascinated, as tiny bubbles spread across Abbie’s hips and thighs. He enjoyed the feel of her muscles flex beneath her petal soft skin and the thatch of curls at her core called to him, begging him to explore what they kept hidden.

His hands slipped up and over her hips as he leaned forward to press his face to her apex. Abbie made a soft, surprised sound and rested her hand atop of his head, drawing one knee up to grant him better access. Ichabod eased his mouth further between her legs, sampling the sweet delights in her folds.

Abbie’s walls clenched when Ichabod groaned her name against her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moaned and sighed, rocking against his probing tongue. His mustache and beard added an extra, soft scratch that titillated and added to her pleasure.

He cradled her ass in his ginormous hands like an overly convenient chair, allowing Abbie to widen her legs and concentrate on chasing the tightening in her groin as Ichabod lapped at her clit. She jerked and swore when he sucked on it gently, causing her to keen desperately. “Ichabod, I’m going to come,” she panted, one hand now fisted in his hair as she practically rode his face.

She caught a glimpse of his eyes as they flashed dangerously, and hollered in disappointment when he ceased his ministrations. “No….” she whimpered, her free hand dropping immediately to her clit to strum her fingers against it.

“Abigail,” Ichabod rumbled as he moved her hand away. “This is my responsibility now. When you want to come I will ensure you do so however I am able.” 

Before Abbie could respond, Ichabod rose from his knees, still holding her against the wall, and with one smooth move slid into her completely. “Oh my god,” she groaned, already dangerously close to coming. The only thing that kept her from doing so was the knowledge she would never live it down. The only thing that soothed her ego was the look of desperation in Ichabod’s eyes - he looked close to coming, too.

Abbie whimpered softly on the first stroke. On the next she keened, her hands grabbing at Ichabod's shoulders and her feet kicking then curling around his body. “Oh God, please,” she cried out desperately.

She rested her forehead against his and let out soft, breathy screams as he thrust harder and deeper. “Come, Abbie,” he murmured, adjusting the grips of his hands so he could slide one between their bodies.

One corner of Abbie's mouth twitched upward. She had intended to tell him she'd come when he did. His fingers found her clit and within seconds her head fell back against the tile and she wailed euphorically.

Ichabod thrust deep and _yes there._ That's exactly what he had been waiting for. He groaned as he spilled himself inside of her hot walls. Since he could not reach her lips, he greedily devoured the inviting flesh of her neck, covering it with open mouthed kisses as Abbie trembled in ecstasy. He nipped her chin and Abbie let her head fall forward so he could have her mouth.

Abbie smiled against his lips. She could maybe get used to her orgasms being managed by one Ichabod Crane. Humming softly, Abbie ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I can not wait to get you home,” Ichabod murmured.

“Same,” Abbie chuckled. Her head was already filled with visions of her sitting on his face and grinding down on his mouth. He'd probably enjoy that.

Abbie gasped and clung to Ichabod when his knees wobbled. Shortly thereafter, he lowered her feet to the floor of the shower.

“We’re never going to get out of this shower,” she muttered.

“Admittedly, it is significantly cooler in here rather than out in our room,” Ichabod said as he reached for their soap again before turning on the water.

Abbie laughed and took his soap to fill her hand as he did the same for hers, and they went about cleaning themselves again that only derailed when Ichabod got his hands on Abbie’s ass and she ended up pressed against the cool tile of the shower, backing that same ass onto Ichabod as he filled her again and again. 

Eventually they made it back into the room and Ichabod stripped the sheets as Abbie got dressed. She watched him work from one of the chairs next to the table that still held evidence of their doughnut and coffee dinner, smiling softly as she watched him work. 

“You know,” she said, as an idea struck her. “Instead of getting new sheets and waiting for the air conditioner to get fixed… why don’t we just go home? Our air conditioner works, and my bed is better.”

Ichabod stilled. “If you are sure,” he said, a shade more hesitant than Abbie would’ve thought.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked. Did reality catch up to his big brain before hers? After four orgasms Abbie admitted she might be a little impaired.

There are millions of reasons why they wouldn't work. Millions of reasons why they shouldn’t do this. 

“My mind was set some time ago,” he said quietly. “I just wished to give you space to feel differently, is all.”

Abbie rose, watching Ichabod carefully not look at her. “Crane,” she said. “Ichabod.” He finally looked at her. “I want to thank you for putting up with my moody ass earlier today.”

Ichabod frowned, then smiled briefly. “It was the heat,” he said. “I knew you meant no offense.”

“You know me like no one else does,” she said quietly, reaching for his hand. Abbie watched his giant paw engulf her hand and felt strangely safe. “I’m not going to change my mind,” she whispered, still watching their entwined hands.

Ichabod gently tilted Abbie’s chin up so he could kiss her deeply. He tried to pour all of his feelings for her into it - even the ones he couldn’t name or fathom - and when they parted she wobbled slightly, giving him a burst of pride. When her gorgeous brown eyes fluttered open they were heated enough to rival the temperature of the room.

“Let’s go home,” she said, and for the first time since summer began, Abbie was thankful for the heat.


End file.
